This a poem that my friends and I wrote about our band camp this year.
A Band Called West
Once there was a band called West
They never tried their best.
They punched the walls, they broke the glass,
And Jonathan is a big dumb ass.
The food was awfull of weatend bread,
They often wished that they were dead.
Once upon a band called West,
Jason Moore was Mr. Bean,
The bugs were big, The bugs were mean
Mrs. Parker is a mighty foe,
She's Hitler of her little show.
Once upon a band called West
What does productivity mean?
Shelly wants to direct someday,
But Whino's got another say.
The heat's so bad, it melts your face,
We're gonna die with lots of grace.
So hear our song before we're dead...
Once upon a band called West.
They marched all day, they marched all night,
Untill the day they see the light.
It's so hot, worth all the fight,
Who wants to quit.
Once upon a band called West.
Look now, we're almost done,
Maybe it was kinda fun.
NO.
Once upon a band called West.
A/N: It was so hot this year, We're talking about 110 degrese with the heat index with no wind what so ever. It had it's fun times. Everyone get's drunk at our band camp. Before the last practice, me and some of my friends walked by the pool, we saw the cooks screwing in the pool. We'll never swim there again...
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